


fine eyes (helpless)

by cconn



Series: Interruptions [1]
Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cconn/pseuds/cconn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie has fine eyes, William is helpless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fine eyes (helpless)

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved the Jane Austen canon that Darcy thinks Elizabeth has "fine eyes." Here's my take on it, (inspired loosely by the song Helpless from the musical Hamilton) not sure it'll turn into anything, but reviews always help :)

* * *

_"Helpless! Look into your eyes, and the sky’s the limit, I’m helpless! Down for the count, and I’m drownin’ in ‘em"_

* * *

The sound of William’s steps on the threshold as he closed the front door behind him interrupted Lizzie’s train of thought. Through the thin walls of her apartment she could hear him set his keys down on the counter and then moving about the kitchen, probably fixing them both a cup of coffee. She had been living on caffeine recently as a result of her graduate research, and it seemed he knew the way to her heart. She smiled to herself at his thoughtfulness as she returned her eyes to the thesis draft in front of her. She was so entirely absorbed in her work that the next time she noticed him was when he gently pushed open the door to her room. He stood there for a moment, quiet.

“Will you quit it? Please” Lizzie groaned from her hunched position over her laptop without looking up. Having not moved from the desk all day for the exception of food and the bathroom, she had put minimal effort into her looks. His old Harvard sweatshirt hung loosely on her small frame over a pair of leggings. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, the ends of which she absentmindedly twirled between her finger as she looked over what would _hopefully_ be the last draft of her thesis. She didn’t know if she could take much more of it, and the fact that she could feel William’s eyes on her wasn’t helping.

“Quit what?” William asked innocently, ducking his chin down in a pointless attempt to hide the smile playing on his lips. She looked so effortlessly beautiful and despite her pleas, he didn’t want to stop looking at her. Lizzie whipped around in her chair.

“ _Staring at me_. And don’t play innocent, mister. I know exactly what you’re doing. Why you do it is beyond me.” She glared at him as he stood leaning in the doorway to her room.

“I’m not allowed to admire my girlfriend? Anyway, you’re going to have back problems if you sit like that all day.” he replied, this time biting his lip to stifle the chuckle that was brewing in his chest.

Since coming in the door from the office he had shed his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. His eyes were full of longing for her. He looked so helpless, standing there with a cup of coffee for her, that she decided resistance was futile. With a loud sigh and overly dramatic roll of her eyes she uncurled herself from her hunched position over her thesis and walked over to him. She took the cup of coffee from his hands and set on on the desk behind her before she felt him wrap his arms around her waist. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips. Pulling away she smiled, albeit this time more sympathetically.

“Thanks for the coffee. You’re a godsend. I’m sorry Will. I’m almost done, a few more days of this then I’m all yours.”

Fingering the strings on her - _his_ \- hoodie, he replied, “You're welcome. This sweatshirt looks good on you. You should keep it.”

“That’s very kind of you. I’ll have you know it's very comfortable and I wasn’t planning on returning it to your closet anytime soon. But seriously, I’m sorry about all this-“ she gestured to the piles of papers threatening to take over the desk and the stacks of books spread out across the floor.

“Don’t apologize for hard work, Lizzie. I’m exceedingly proud of everything you’ve done.” He grinned again, his eyes meeting hers as he cupped her chin in his hands, lifting her eyes to meet his.

Of all the reasons he ever _happened_ to be staring at Lizzie, he always liked looking in her eyes the most. He frequently found himself lost in her eyes. They were a clear crystal blue, a shade he craved, a shade that made his heart beat a little bit faster every time he saw her. When he opened his mouth (or didn’t, as was more often the case), he was, as she _so clearly_ described in her earlier videos; “reserved” and “uptight” (and that was putting it kindly, to be honest). But when he looked in her eyes, the reassurance and love he saw in them made those hesitations melt away, and he was hers.

Her eyes closed, then, for a moment, as she leaned into his chest, and though those eyes he so loved were no longer visible, he was still helpless.


End file.
